


something to believe in

by SadieFlood



Category: Stigmata (1999)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 06:33:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21157181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadieFlood/pseuds/SadieFlood





	something to believe in

**Author's Note:**

  * For [evewithanapple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evewithanapple/gifts).

Frankie's mother hasn't seen the news.

Andrew's at a loss for words. How do you explain what happened to Frankie to someone who didn't witness it? Her wounds have almost healed by the time her mother arrives; she's not even wearing the bandages anymore.

If her mother notices the scars, she doesn't mention it.

After Andrew's visit to Belo Quinto, the Vatican wasted no time discrediting him both inside the church and in the press. He's not completely adrift; after all, they could take his collar, but they couldn't take his credentials. He's been spending most of his time fixing up Frankie's apartment and sending out his CV. There has been some interest, but he's in no rush. He doesn't say it aloud, but the prospect of returning to civilian life fills him with something he's reluctant to describe as sorrow, but he can't find another word for it. Rolling over feels _wrong_, but what else is there to do? It's hard to imagine a world where a lost gospel--a message so vital that Father Alameida had nearly killed Frankie to ensure that someone heard it--would barely register, but Andrew could shout it from the rooftops and only a few would listen.

Sometimes he thinks those few might be enough. A start.

The rest of the time, he thinks that what he's found here with Frankie is more than he ever expected, and maybe it's enough that _they_ know the truth.

Frankie's gotten some letters from the devout—those who only read about the stigmata and ignored the explanation, still under the spell of a church that shouldn't exist. Sometimes he answers her mail, because she certainly won't, but for the most part the envelopes just pile up.

Except the rosary beads. Those he drives 30 miles to throw out. Just in case.

Frankie's mother has no idea about the door she opened with that package. He's inclined to keep it that way, at least until she heads back to Florida.

“She likes you, but she thinks you're too old for me,” Frankie says into his ear later, as if it's foreplay. Maybe it's supposed to be; she's on top of him with a familiar look in her eye. “She told me.”

“She's probably right.”

Frankie jerks back like he's slapped her. “No way. After what I've been through? I feel like I'm a million years old.”

“You don't look a million years old,” he points out.

She leans in again and kisses him. “Thanks for noticing.”

After a moment, he says, “What did you tell her about how we met?”

“I said you saved my life,” she says. “Which you did, literally. I'm not sure she got that. But who cares?” She kisses him again.

“We should probably come up with a story. An explanation.”

“Why?”

She looks annoyed that he keeps interrupting her efforts to get something started, but he can't help himself. “Because your mother's got a point. We don't make sense.”

“If you're not into this,” she starts to say.

“Frankie.” He places his hands on her hips to hold her in place.

“Then what is it? Look, I'm older than my years. I always felt that way, but now it's off the charts. And you, well, until recently, you didn't have sex for, like, two decades, so we're basically the same age.”

He pulls her down and kisses her back. “I hope that's not what you said to her.”

“I don't care what she thinks.” She over-enunciates every word. “I don't care what anyone thinks. We know the truth. That's all that matters.”

He hesitates. “About that. The truth.”

She rolls off him, landing on the bed with a sigh. “I didn't know it was going to turn into one of _those_ conversations.”

“I still feel a responsibility."

“But you're a crackpot,” she says. “I mean, as far as the people who would care are concerned.”

“That doesn't matter.”

“So you're leaving,” she says.

He's tempted to take it all back. Instead he says, “Not right away.”

“But you are.” She sits up. “You have to go.”

“_We_ could go. If you wanted to.”

“We're living in sin.” He already knows she's not interested in any suggestion that the situation could easily be rectified, so he keeps his mouth shut. “That won't help your reputation.”

“Like you said,” he says. “Who cares?”

She turns to look at him. “You really want me to come with you, take this show on the road?”

“More than anything,” he says.

“I'll think about it.” She climbs atop him again. “But not tonight.”

“Not tonight," he agrees, and doesn't argue any further.


End file.
